


Parallels

by silvertrails



Series: Our Love [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-12 01:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11727000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Findekáno follows Maitimo, just like Nolofinwë used to follow Fëanáro.





	1. Chapter 1

**Parallels  
By CC   
June, 2006 **

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. 

Fingon is nine years old, and Maedhros is nineteen years old. Maglor is still a baby. This is not a sequel to Siblings and can be read alone, but it is part of the same arc. 

Prompt: picnic 

Big thanks to Alex for beta reading this story. ^_^

* * *

**Tirion, YT 1250**

Fëanáro ran a hand through his hair, undoing the lose ponytail that kept it out of his face. He sighed in exasperation and proceeded to put his tools away. He had little time left. He had been working since the first mingling of the lights of the Trees, trying to finish the necklace that he was going to give Nerdanel for her begetting day. He had found a rare blue gem on his last trip, its brilliance increasing noticeably once he had polished it. The necklace would look good with the earrings Nelyo was making for his mother. 

Nerdanel was not as fond of jewels as most female elves were, but she always wore what Fëanáro and Nelyo made for her. And Nelyo was becoming a good smith, though he seemed more inclined to make metal images, his mother’s particular craft. He made images of horses, though he also liked to make small copper trinkets for his mother and aunts. Nelyo was an obedient son though he had a tendency to daydream that had earned him more than one reprimand from Fëanaro. Nelyo was not only his son but his heir, and for that alone he needed to work harder than other younglings his age. 

Once his tools were back in the metal boxes and shelves, Fëanaro picked the necklace and put it away. He would finish it later. Nerdanel was probably waiting for him already so he needed to make haste. He sighed as he headed to his quarters to have a quick bath and change clothes. He shouldn’t have agreed to spend a whole day with the family, but his father had talked to Nerdanel first, and she had agreed to go without asking Fëanáro if he was willing to spend a whole day in the company of Indis’s offspring. 

He had tried to avoid the gathering by mentioning a possible meeting at the linguistic guild. After all, he was in the process of creating a new alphabet, one that was likely to replace Rúmil’s old runes. He needed time to work on it and convince everyone in the guild that the change was needed. That was more important than any gathering. Nerdanel had merely nodded and told him that she understood, and that she would take their sons to the family gathering and explain his absence to Finwë. 

Fëanáro had given up in the end and agreed to come with them. It would give him a chance to speak to his father about the need to go back to Quenya’s original pronunciation and stop the corruption of their language. It was bad enough that most of the Noldor had replaced s for þ, but it was worse that their king had given in to this practice. Indis had been no help. Not that Fëanaro had actually asked her to stop the change, but being a Vanya, he would have expected her to keep to the correct pronunciation. She had followed Finwë doggedly, probably to belittle Míriel. 

Hopefully he would not cross paths with Indis after the unavoidable greetings; surely that would be all he would see of Findis too. His sister was still living in the castle, showing no inclination to marry with any of the Noldor lords. Fëanáro had not seen her or Arafinwë in a long time, though he had seen Irimë when Nolo had brought her with him. Actually, Nolo was the only one of his siblings who regularly visited Fëanaro’s home. Even little Káno recognized him already and would babble happily when Nolo came to visit. 

Fëanáro was about to enter his quarters when he heard a soft voice singing in the nursery, and Káno trying to follow. It was not Nelyo. The voice was that of an elfling. Frowning, Fëanaro stepped into the room and found Findekáno standing near Káno’s crib. The elfling looked up, and for a moment, Fëanáro had the eerie feeling that he was actually looking at Nolo. Findekáno had his father’s eyes, though his hair was a shade darker, more like Anairë’s. 

“Dada...dada...” Káno babbled loudly. Fëanaro smiled faintly and approached his son’s crib, picking him up. Káno babbled a bit more before settling down and resting his head against Fëanáro’s shoulder. 

“Greetings, Uncle Curufinwë,” Findekáno said, as if it were normal for him to be there at such an early hour. The elf-brat was not even properly dressed for the gathering. His braids were undone and there were grass stains on his knees. 

Fëanáro fixed him with a stern look. “What are you doing here? Did your father send you on an errand?” 

Findekáno shook his head. “No, Papa is out with Uncle Arafinwë. I came to visit Maitimo.” 

Findekáno was one of the reasons for Nelyo to spend less time at the smithy. Why his son would willingly spend time with the elf-brat was beyond Fëanaro. He had warned Nelyo about encouraging his half-cousin too much. If Findekano was anything like Nolo, he would soon be following Nelyo all around Tirion. 

“You came to visit Nelyo. And where is he now?” 

“Maitimo went to my house to tell Mama I’m here. I forgot to tell Mama I was coming. I promised Maitimo I would stay with Auntie and help her with Káno. I am teaching Kano how to sing. You heard him sing? Auntie was ready, but Káno was hungry and she fed him. But I think Káno drank too much because he spilled the milk on Auntie’s clothes. That’s why I am here with him. He likes to sing.” 

_Does he ever stop to breathe?_

Fëanáro nodded, trying to curb his irritation. “You shouldn’t have left your house without warning your mother, Findekáno. I would be very angry if Nelyo or Káno did something like that.” 

Findekáno shrugged. “But Káno is too little to walk and Maitimo... Is Maitimo in trouble because he left without telling you?” 

“He will be if he doesn’t come back soon,” Fëanáro said darkly. Káno had fallen asleep, so Fëanáro carefully rested him back in his crib. 

“It was my fault,” Findekáno said, looking troubled. “But Auntie said it was all right and that I could go to Grandpa’s house with you.” 

_How does he manage to look like Nolo at his age?_

Fëanáro nodded, resigned. Nerdanel had a soft spot for Nolo. She would feel the same for Findekáno too. The elfling was smiling again and studying him with undisguised curiosity. Fëanáro sighed. 

“Why do you follow Nelyo?” 

“Because I like to be with him,” Findekáno said simply. “And he promised to teach me how to make little horses so I came early.” 

Fëanáro raised an eyebrow. “You want to be a smith?” 

Findekáno nodded seriously. 

“I remember your father saying you like books,” Fëanáro said, eyeing the elfling thoughtfully. He seemed strong enough to learn the craft but Fëanáro didn’t think Nolo would agree. 

“Father said that you were making a new alphabet,” Findekáno said. “Is that why you speak different from us?” 

A wave of anger washed over Fëanáro at the elfling’s boldness. It was bad enough that his kin had decided to corrupt the language, but for this elf-brat to question him... 

“It was how Noldor spoke before the Vanyar left Tirion,” Nerdanel said from the entrance. She came into the nursery and placed a hand on Fëanáro’s shoulder. He was glad for her presence. It would have been a very bad thing to snap at Nolo’s son just before a family gathering. 

Wide brown eyes looked from Nerdanel to him. “Oh, I see now...” 

“What do mean, you see now?” Fëanáro asked harshly. 

“Easy,” Nerdanel cautioned. 

“You are Papa’s older brother so you must know how Noldor spoke in ancient times. I didn’t know you were so old. Grandpa must be very old then...” 

Only Nerdanel’s laugh prevented Fëanáro from snapping at the brat. The change in the language pronunciation had started before Fëanáro had been born, but of course Findekáno would not know about it. Nolo should have schooled him better. 

Nelyo chose that moment to enter the nursery, holding something that looked like clothes. Findekano moved at his side at once. Nelyo smiled at his cousin and then looked at Fëanáro warily. 

“Papa...” 

“Where were you?” Fëanáro asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Findekáno open his mouth and close it again at Nelyo’s silent warning. 

“I was at Uncle Nolo’s house, Papa,” Nelyo said. “Findekáno left without warning anyone. Aunt Anairë was worried that he might have followed Uncle Nolo.” 

Fëanaro frowned. “You should have taken him back so he learns not to leave his house without warning his parents. Next time, try not to coddle him. If something happens to him, you will be held responsible.” 

“Yes, Papa,” Maitimo said quietly. Findekáno was standing next to him, looking contrite. 

“Do you promise not to do it again, Findekáno?” Nerdanel asked softly. 

The elf-brat’s eyes lit. “I promise, Auntie!” 

“Good. Maitimo, please take him to your room so he can change clothes. We will be waiting here with Káno.” 

Maitimo looked at his mother with obvious relief and then turned to Findekáno. “Come with me, Finno. We need to make haste.” 

Findekáno nodded and grabbed Maitimo’s hand. “I didn’t know your father was so old, Maitimo,” the brat said as they left the nursery. 

“Hush, Finno,” Nelyo said. Fëanáro could not hear his son’s next words, but he hoped that Nelyo managed to teach some manners to his cousin. Nerdanel laughed softly. 

“It is not funny,” Fëanáro said, his frown deepening. 

Nerdanel’s smile didn’t waver. “He is so cute. Just like Nolo was at his age.” 

“Nolo was a pest at his age.” 

“He was cute and he adored you, and his son seems to feel the same for Maitimo. They are cousins, Fëanáro, and there is no reason for them not to spend time together.” 

“That brat distracts Nelyo from his work. He is starting to follow our son all around Tirion, just like Nolo did with me. And they are only half-cousins. Nelyo has no need to indulge him.” 

“Maitimo doesn’t mind Findekáno following him around, Fëanáro,” Nerdanel said, mild disapproval showing in her eyes. 

“That is because he is your son,” Fëanáro said, his eyes softening slightly. “You two like having little pests around.” 

Nerdanel grinned and kissed his cheek. “We do,” she said, winking at him, and before she could say a word Nerdanel picked the sleeping Káno from the crib and left the nursery.


	2. Chapter 2

Telperion’s light had been at its brightest when they arrived at Finwë’s halls. There had been food and wine on various tables, and huge baskets with fruit ready for the taking. The scent of alfirin had welcomed Fëanáro as he had entered the garden, and for the first time since Indis had come to the castle, the huge vases with her favorite flowers had not bothered him. As long as Míriel’s alfirin bloomed in Finwë’s garden, the first lady of the house would never be forgotten. 

Káno had fallen asleep after being the center of attention of everyone in the castle. Nerdanel had sat with him under a tree, and all the female elves in the family had spent an insane amount of time trying to decipher the elfling’s babbling. They had also made Findekáno sing, and listened to his talk about new runes and ancient elves as if the brat really knew what he was speaking about. And they had praised the pair of miniature onyx horses Nelyo had given to Finwë. 

It had been a pleasant enough gathering, if you didn’t mind spending a day in idle conversation and surrounded by noisy relatives. Fëanáro had to admit that he had missed talking to his father, and that getting to know Arafinwë better had not really been a bad thing. The day would have been uneventful if Findekáno had not fallen into the pond while trying to look at the golden fish Olwë had given Finwë as a gift. 

Nelyo had taken the brat out of the water, and Irimë had wrapped him with a blanket so he stopped trembling with cold. Nolo had reprimanded him, and it had been the first time Fëanáro had seen the elf-brat looking upset enough to cry. That had been strange, because Nolo had not been stern enough in Fëanáro’s opinion, but maybe the elf-brat was not used to being scolded. It would explain why Findekáno was so disobedient. 

Anairë and Indis had taken Findekáno into the castle so he changed clothes and drank something warm. They had come back saying that the brat had fallen asleep on Indis’s bed. This had happened just after Telperion’s light had completely died, giving way to Laurelin’s golden light. There had been peace and quiet since then... 

Fëanáro was sitting at one of the tables, drinking some wine and waiting for his father. Finwë had left the garden when a herald had come with a message from Ingwë. Probably some festival the Vanyar King was set on celebrating, Fëanáro mused. He was not so fond of those huge gatherings because there was no easy way to leave them early and go back to his work. Or speak about important things. Fëanáro had been about to tell his father about his linguistic projects when Nolo’s son had fallen into the pond. 

It would have to be another day, Fëanáro mused. Once Finwë returned they would start the archery contest, and that would mark the end of the gathering. Bows and quiver were already hanging from low branches, and targets had just been fixed on slender trees. Archery was not Fëanor’s favorite sport, but he could stand his ground in any contest. He would show his siblings he was still the best archer in the family if they did not count Finwë. Irimë was almost as good as Nolo, and definitely better than Arafinwë, and Findis was really bad at it. Maybe that was why she was practicing with Nelyo right now. 

“Have you seen Finno?” 

“You lost him again?” Fëanáro was about to say something about Nolo’s inability to keep his son in check when his brother’s expression made him realize that this was not the time to tease him. 

“Wasn’t he sleeping in Indis’s room?” Fëanáro asked, still refusing to worry. Findekáno had to be somewhere inside the castle, maybe trying to play his own version of hide and seek. 

“That was a long time ago,” Nolo said. “He is not there now, and we cannot find him. I thought he would be with Nelyo, but I was wrong.” 

“Nelyo is not his baby-sitter,” Fëanáro said before he could stop himself. 

Nolo glared at him, but it was the too real concern in his eyes that made Fëanáro set his glass down on the table. He stood and placed a hand on Nolo’s shoulder, steering him toward Indis’s orchard. Fëanáro remembered that Nelyo had once hid there when little, and stuffed himself with berries. 

“Do you think he would leave the castle?” he asked. 

“He might,” Nolo said tensely. “He was upset after I scolded him, and he tends to become too quiet when he is upset.” 

“Growing quiet after being scolded is normal,” Fëanáro said absently. Findekáno was not in the orchard. He was starting to worry for the brat. 

“I know,” Nolo said, “but I prefer him to be loud so I can know what’s in his mind. Where to go now? The only place that remains is the pine woods, but that is too far away...” 

“Let us check...” Fëanáro trailed off when he saw Findis running toward them, her golden braids flying after her. Fëanáro had never seen her run like this. 

“I believe that someone already thought of going there,” he said grimly as they hurried to meet her. Findis looked scared. 

“Nolo, we found him! Come!” 

They had to cross a small shallow creek to reach the woods. As they ran, Findis told them that Findekáno had climbed up one of the highest pine trees and was refusing to come down. Nelyo had climbed up the tree too, but had stopped when Findekáno had climbed higher, afraid the elfling might fall. 

As soon as they reached the area, Anairë rushed to Nolo. “He thinks you are disappointed in him, Nolo,” she said in a hushed tone. “Nelyo has been trying to convince him to come down, but Finno just goes higher and tells him to go away.” 

Anairë seemed about to panic, but for now was holding herself pretty well. Nolo looked scared. He was very pale as he stood under the tree and called his son. 

“Findekáno?” 

The elfling seemed to freeze for a moment, and then turned to look at Nelyo. “You told Auntie Irimë to call them!” 

“No, Finno,” Nelyo said carefully. “I have been here with you. Papa and Uncle Nolo were also looking for you as everyone else. Why don’t you come down so you talk to your father?” 

“Father is angry...” 

Nelyo sighed and looked down at them, silently asking for help. Fëanáro could not remember seeing his older son so scared before. 

“Findekáno,” Nolo started again and then paused. His voice was gentler when he spoke again. “Finno, please come down. I am no longer angry.” 

“But you were,” Findekáno insisted, “and Uncle Curufinwë is angry with me too.” 

Fëanáro blinked, and shook his head when Nolo glanced at him questioningly. 

“I have no idea what he is speaking about.” 

Nolo closed his eyes briefly and nodded before looking up again. “Fëanáro is not angry at you, Finno. Why don’t you come down and tell us why you think so?” 

Findekáno shook his head and embraced the tree more tightly. Fëanáro could see his clothes were torn and dirty, and his braids undone. He sighed heavily and turned to Irimë. 

“Why does he think I am angry at him?” he asked her quietly. 

“Finno heard you telling Papa that he is distracting Maitimo from his work at the forge,” Irimë said. “That is why he doesn’t want to come down with him. Finno thinks you will be angry at Maitimo too.” 

“I’m not angry at Findekáno,” Fëanáro said, trying to keep his voice low. “I did say that he distracts Nelyo, but I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to find a reason...” 

Fëanáro shook his head and approached the tree. “Findekáno, come down so Maitimo can come down too. I’m not angry with you. I was... wrong. You are not distracting him.” 

“Auntie Nerdanel said that ancient elves can never be wrong,” Findekáno said seriously. 

“Auntie Nerdanel was joking,” Fëanáro said. “Come down now, Findekáno.” 

“Will you be angry at Maitimo for playing with me?” 

“I won’t.” 

Findekáno seemed to hesitate and then he looked at Nolo. 

“I will not scold you if you come back now, Finno.” 

Findekáno smiled and started the descent. There was a collective sigh of relief that was cut short when the elf-brat slid and fell through the higher branches before he managed to catch one of them. Fëanáro stopped Nolo before he could climb up the tree. 

“Easy. Look.” 

Nelyo had been slowly going up, so he was close enough to hold a hand to his cousin. Fëanáro urged Nolo to move close to the tree, just in case Findekáno fell. It would be easier to catch him if they stayed on the ground. 

“Wait for me, Finno,” Nelyo said. “I know your hands hurt but don’t let go of that branch before you take mine. That’s it. You are very brave.” 

Findekáno nodded obediently, and soon Nelyo had him. The two started the descent and soon the brat was in his mother’s arms. Save for some scrapes and bruises, Findekáno seemed to be all right. Fëanáro stayed behind while Anairë and Nolo thanked Nelyo. His son looked as relieved as if Findekáno had been his own brother. Nerdanel was right. Nelyo didn’t seem to mind the brat following him around. 

Eventually, Nolo took Findekáno from Anairë and they started the way back to the castle. Nelyo looked at Fëanáro for a moment and then turned around to follow the others. 

Nerdanel came to stand beside him, with Káno in her arms. The baby was awake, looking around with wide eyes. Only then did Fëanáro hear the birds chirping and singing in the trees. Fëanáro mussed Káno’s hair and then took him in his arms. 

“So ancients are never wrong, are they?” 

Nerdanel grinned. “Finno believes you are some sort of legendary and grumpy hero. Who am I to disappoint him?” 

Fëanáro scowled. “Very funny. Nolo and Anairë should take better care of that brat.” 

Nerdanel nodded. “Finno is an impressionable child,” she said as they also started the way back. 

“Impressionable is not the same as disobedient,” Fëanáro pointed out. In his arms Káno seemed to babble in time with the birds’ chirps. 

“Finno thought he would get Maitimo in trouble.” 

_Silly elfling..._

“I heard.” 

“I know why Maitimo has been distracted, Fëanáro. I didn’t know before but I know now.” 

Fëanáro frowned. “How is that?” 

“Maitimo wanted to tell you about the races once he was ready,” Nerdanel said. “Your father knew about it. Maitimo told Finno about the races while trying to make him come down.” 

“The races.” 

“Yes. There will be a new festival soon. Maitimo has been training to participate in the horse races.” 

“And Father knew.” 

“Don’t be angry at him, Fëanáro. Maitimo is a good son, and he is as desperate for your approval as Finno is for Nolo’s.” 

“I do hope Nelyo doesn’t climb a mountain to get my attention.” 

Nerdanel smiled. “Maitimo is older, and he has never been as mischievous as Finno. And our son is more likely to speak when he is not happy about something. Finno is different. He retreats into himself, and then tries doing something crazy. It is a matter of different temperaments, I believe.” 

Fëanáro nodded, still not happy that Nelyo had not told him about the races. Did his son trust Finwë more than him? 

“Fëanáro?” 

They were standing outside the castle and Káno was slowly falling asleep in his arms. Fëanáro gave the baby back to Nerdanel. 

“I will wait for Nelyo to tell me,” he said, “and only then I will decide if I am angry about this or not.” 

“All right,” Nerdanel said. There was a soft smile on her lips. 

“I didn’t say I will forgive him.” 

She nodded and leaned in close to kiss his cheek. “I know. Now come. I guess the archery contest has been called off, so let us make sure that Finno is all right before we go home.”


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a long time since Fëanáro had visited Nolo’s house. Fëanáro was not too fond of social visits, and the last family gathering had been intense enough to last him for weeks, if not for longer. He loved his father, and he had to admit that he was fond of Nolo, but he would rather talk to them alone and not surrounded by noisy relatives. 

Fëanáro was sitting at the table with Nolo, on his brother’s terrace, drinking good wine while Anairë and Nerdanel supervised the preparation of the meal. Nolo had a good cook, which was one of the reasons why Fëanáro didn’t mind dropping by his brother’s house from time to time. He also enjoyed Nolo’s company, though that was something that Fëanáro had only admitted to Nerdanel. 

They shared a liking for books, and Nolo wisely refrained from mentioning linguistic issues, so their conversations were long and pleasant, never giving way to quarrels. It was not unusual for Nolo to drop by Fëanáro’s workshop when Laurelin’s light was already waning so they could go together to a wine shop. 

Nolo had invited him to visit while they walked home after Finwë’s gathering. They had left the castle together after Indis had patched Findekáno up. The brat had had scrapes on his knees, so Nelyo had put him on his back and told him to hold on around his neck without choking him. Findekáno had been unusually quiet, so they had walked in amiable silence, broken only by Káno’s occasional attempts at pronouncing new words. 

Nelyo had told Fëanáro about the horse races as soon as they had reached their house. Nerdanel had left the room with Káno so Nelyo and Fëanáro could talk in peace. Nelyo had confessed that he had feared Fëanáro would forbid him to participate in the races, so he had decided to keep this to himself. Asking for Finwë’s help had been a consequence of needing a good horse. Nelyo had begged Finwë to keep the secret. 

It was not the races that bothered Fëanáro but the fact that his son had hidden things from him. This bordered on disobedience, and that was something Fëanáro was not going to tolerate. His word was law in his house, even if Nerdanel was not subjected to that law. 

Fëanáro had tried to stay angry, but Nerdanel’s words had weighed in his final decision so he had forgiven Nelyo after clearly stating that another thing like this would be considered outright disobedience and punished accordingly. 

Nelyo had been more than happy to promise it would never happen again, and to offer to work more hours once the races were over. Fëanáro was planning to fully hold his son to that, but he was not satisfied. The whole incident had left him with a bitter taste on his lips. It had made him feel as if he had failed to understand his son. 

Nolo seemed to be going through a similar problem, judging Findekáno’s reaction to the well deserved scolding of days ago. The elf-brat had been quite subdued after his adventure in the woods, and he had only smiled when Nelyo had promised to teach him how to climb trees safely. Nolo had looked alarmed at the prospect, but had nodded resignedly when Fëanáro had given him a meaningful look. 

It was amazing how similar Nolo and his son were, and how blind he had been to this obvious fact. Fëanáro had realized it the first time he had heard Findekáno tell Nelyo that they could share the same grandmother until Míriel came back from Mandos’ Halls. Only Finwë’s presence had stopped Fëanáro from reacting to such an absurd idea. 

The brat was so like Nolo... 

It was different for Fëanáro and Nelyo. Though Fëanáro could see much of himself in his elder son, Nelyo had also inherited his mother’s quiet strength and determination. That made a difference when Nelyo wanted to do something that Fëanáro did not approve. It had made a difference with the races. 

“Káno is growing fast,” Nolo commented, shaking Fëanáro out of his musings. Findekáno and Káno were playing in the garden. Nelyo was sitting under a tree and reading a book about horses that Nolo had given to him. 

“He is still a crawling baby,” Fëanáro said, looking at his younger son fondly. “What about you and Anairë? Are you giving Findekáno a brother soon? He seems to like small elflings.” 

Nolo nodded. “It would seem Finno would welcome a brother, but it is too   
soon for Anairë and me to beget another child. And Findekáno still demands all our attention. I don’t know how papa and mama managed to raise me and Irimë...” 

Fëanáro smiled wryly. “They had me to take care of you, remember?” 

Nolo grinned, looking very much as the irritating brat he had been back then. “You see then,” he said. “I don’t have an older son to help me with Finno.” 

“No, you have my older son to take care of your brat, and the worst is that Nelyo seems to enjoy it.” Fëanáro paused and sighed dramatically. “It is the curse of the family, what can I do?” 

“Little ones always admire their older brothers,” Nolo said, his gaze softening. “I believe that Findekáno sees Maitimo as an older brother. He is very fond of your son. Sometimes I wonder if Maitimo understands him better than I do.” 

There was a tint of disquiet in Nolo’s voice. It was unexpected, and disturbingly close to what Fëanáro felt regarding his own son’s behavior. Did Nolo think Nelyo was taking Findekáno from him? 

“Does it bother you that they are close?” 

Nolo shook his head. “No, of course it doesn’t bother me. Maitimo cares for Finno and keeps him safe. I just want to understand my son better. I don’t want Finno to do something like what he did at papa’s halls ever again.” 

“Children are mischievous, Nolo. You of all people should know that.”   
Nolo smiled faintly. “Maybe if Irimë and Arafinwë had been as mischievous as Finno, I would know what to do with my son now. Irimë was too close to my age for me to notice, and Arafinwë was always a quiet child.”   
Fëanáro smirked. “You were lucky back then.” 

Nolo rolled his eyes, and turned his gaze to the elflings as if trying to find a clue about how to be a better father just by looking at them. 

“There is no easy way, Nolo,” Fëanáro said after a while. 

“What do you mean?” 

“There is no easy way to raise your children. No written rule. I believed your son distracted Nelyo from his work, but I was wrong. Nelyo’s reasons from staying away from the workshop have little to do with Findekáno following him.” 

Nolo nodded quietly. 

“I didn’t like it when you started following me,” Fëanáro continued, “but in time I got used to it. I even... You could say that I...” 

This was more difficult that Fëanáro had thought, and that was the reason why he never allowed himself to be drawn into this sort of conversation while drinking. Wine seemed to loosen his tongue. 

Nolo smiled. “I think I understand what you are trying to say.” 

Fëanáro nodded briskly. “They are close kin so I guess it works the same for them. Nelyo is very much like his mother. He feels strongly for family and Findekáno is part of that family. You all are.” 

At last he had said it, and that was all Nolo was going to get from him. Actually, Fëanáro was amazed to have said that much. He had all but admitted that he had actually enjoyed those long gone days where Nolo followed him everywhere. This did not mean that Fëanáro had forgotten that Indis had taken his mother’s place, but he had to admit that he was starting to feel as close to Nolo as if they were full brothers. 

“Sometimes I find myself wondering if I am doing right with him,” Nolo said after a while. “Findekáno is a complicated child. He reacts strongly to anything I say. It is difficult to educate a child when he is so mischievous and, at the same time, overreacts when you scold him.” 

“Nelyo was never like that so I have no advice to give,” Fëanáro said. “He was mischievous too, but he always voiced his thoughts. Still does, though I believe that is starting to change.” 

“How so?” 

“He is growing, and he is far too interested in horses and other things that distract him from his work.” 

“But he still works in the smithy.” 

“He does, and he is good at it. I just think that he lacks the passion for it.” 

“Nobody can match your passion, Fëanáro,” Nolo said seriously, “or your fire.” 

Fëanáro looked at his brother sharply, trying to read the meaning behind the softly spoken words. There was nothing Fëanáro could start an argument about, but Nolo’s words still disturbed him. Míriel had given Fëanáro this name, and then had lain on Lorien’s gardens to die. 

“I just do what has to be done,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. “It is the only way to live, to the fullest.” 

Nolo said something, maybe, but Fëanáro did not hear him. He was remembering Nerdanel’s strange words while she had been pregnant with Nelyo. 

_You will be a good father, Fëanáro. And our child will be loved by those close to him, and that will give him strength for any trials that might come later._

Was he going to burn Nelyo with his fire too? Nerdanel had named their son Maitimo, well-shaped one. That name had nothing to do with her strange words, and yet Fëanáro could not forget them. 

“Fëanáro?” 

Nolo was looking at him with unveiled concern. Fëanáro quickly glared at him, and for some strange reason, this seemed to ease Nolo’s concern. 

“Meal is ready,” Anairë announced, coming out of the house with Nerdanel. “You two stop being lazy and go collect those elflings. Oh, Valar...” 

“What?” Nolo had turned around to smile at his wife, but he stood and almost jumped over the terrace and into the garden at Anairë’s last words. Fëanáro could not blame him, but Nerdanel was smiling, so he simply turned around to see what had surprised Anairë so much. 

It was Káno, who had stood on his feet and was trying to follow a bird. The small creature flew out of the baby’s reach and Káno stood there, looking as if he were about to cry. Nelyo had laid the book aside and was looking at his brother. 

“Káno, look this!” Findekáno exclaimed, and waved a small wooden carved bird in front of Káno. The baby giggled and reached for it, babbling happily as he sat beside Findekáno with the toy in his hands. 

Nelyo grinned at them just before Findekáno launched a tickling attack on him. Káno followed, apparently determined to become as mischievous as his cousin. Nerdanel hurried to their side, followed by Anairë, probably to make sure that Káno didn’t get hit accidentally. 

Nolo looked at him and smirked. “You have a lively baby there. I wonder if he will follow Finno once he is old enough.” 

“That would be only fair,” Fëanáro said, trying to glare at his brother. 

Nolo just grinned. Their wives and children were already coming back to the house. Fëanáro waited for them to pass by and then stood. Nolo had not moved. 

“Are you coming?” Fëanáro asked. 

Nolo nodded and stood. “You lead, brother. And as always, I will follow you.”


End file.
